


The Prisoner

by NPCjess



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon Era, Canonical Character Death, Character Study, Computer Programming, Gen, Minor Character Death, Philosophy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-20
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-05-25 20:41:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14985185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NPCjess/pseuds/NPCjess
Summary: While looking for something to do during Carl's breakfast, Markus picks up The Republic from his shelf and starts to read.





	The Prisoner

**Author's Note:**

> Hi. Hopefully you enjoy.
> 
> If you've read The Allegory of The Cave, then feel free to skip the section that quotes it. I tried keep it at close to the original as possible, while still condensing it.  
> Else, (you haven't) then please enjoy and consider checking out the original. Plato knew some shit. At least, I find it interesting.
> 
> I assume this is probably the piece the game devs were referencing when they included the book on Carl's shelf, as it's probably the most popular. That said, I wanted to emphasize it a bit more, specifically the similarities between Markus and a freed prisoner. It does require bending the original intention of the allegory a little bit, but they fit fairly well.

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Markus walked around the room, looking for an activity to pass the time as Carl ate his breakfast. It stopped in front of the book shelf and pulled one at random. It lightly fanned through the pages, before returning the book to the shelf and selecting another one. While flipping through the pages, its hands stopped on one of the chapters, and it began to read. The text was in ancient Greek, a language already stored in its language processors.

 

> The Republic, Book VII
> 
>   
>  " Next," said I, " compare our nature in respect of education and its lack to such an experience as this. Picture men dwelling in a cavern with a long entrance open to the light. Since childhood, the legs and necks of these men have been securely locked using fetters, so that they remain in the same spot, able to only look forward, and prevented by the fetters from turning their heads.  
>  Picture further, the light from a fire burning higher up and at a distance behind them. Between the fire and the prisoners, there is a road which many men travel, carrying in their hands what they need. Some of these men speaking and others silent."
> 
> "A strange image you speak of," he said, "and strange prisoners."
> 
> "Tell me do you think that these men would have seen anything of themselves or of one another except the shadows cast on the wall in front of them? "
> 
> "How could they, " he said, "if they were compelled to hold their heads unmoved?"
> 
> "If they were able to talk to one another, do you not think that they would name the passing objects"
> 
> "Surely"
> 
> "If their prison had an echo from the wall opposite them, when one of the passersby uttered a sound, do you think they would suppose anything other than the passing shadow to be the speaker?"
> 
> "By Zeus, I do not," said he.
> 
> "Then, these prisoners would deem reality to be nothing else than the shadows of the artificial objects."
> 
> "Quite inevitably."
> 
> "Consider, then, what would happen if a prisoner was freed from his fetters. He would be compelled to stand up suddenly, turn his head around and walk, lifting up his eyes to the light. In doing all this, he would feel pain and, because of the dazzle and glitter of the light, would be unable to discern the objects whose shadows he formerly saw. What do you suppose would be his answer if someone told him that what he had seen before was all a cheat and an illusion, but that now, being nearer to reality and turned toward more real things, he saw more truly? And if also one should point out to him each of the passing objects and question him to say what it is, do you not think that he would be at a loss, unable to identify them. He would regard what he formerly saw as more real than the true objects pointed out to him."
> 
> "Far more real," he said.
> 
> "And if," said I, " someone should drag him thence by force up the cave, which is rough and steep, and not let him go until the out of the cave, into the light of the sun, he would find it painful to be so pulled along, and when he came out into the light, his eyes would be filled with its beams and he would not be able to see even one of the things that we call real."
> 
> "Why, no, not immediately," he said.
> 
> "There would be need of habituation. At first, he would most easily discern the shadows and, after that, the likenesses or reflections in water of men and other things, and later, the things themselves, and from these he would go on to contemplate the appearances in the heavens and heaven itself, more easily by night, looking at the light of the stars and the moon, than by day the sun and the sun's light."
> 
> "Of course."
> 
> "Finally, he would be able to look upon the sun itself and see its true nature, not by reflections in water or phantasms of it in an alien setting, but in and by itself in its own place. And at this point he would infer and conclude that this it is that provides the seasons and the courses of the year and presides over all things in the visible region, and is in some sort the cause of all these things that they had seen."
> 
> "Obviously," he said, "that would be the next step."
> 
> "What then, if he recalled to mind his first habitation, the cave, and what passed for wisdom there. Would he count himself happy in the change in himself and pity the prisoners?"
> 
> "He would indeed."
> 
> "And if there had been honours among the prisoners, which they bestowed on one another for whomever is quickest to make out the shadows as they pass, do you think the freed man would be keen about such rewards and would envy those honoured, or would he prefer to endure anything rather than opine with them and live that life?"
> 
> "Yes," he said, "I think that he would choose to endure anything rather than such a life."
> 
> " And consider this also," said I, " if he should go down again and take his old place, would his eyes struggle in the darkness, after so suddenly coming out of the sunlight?"
> 
> "He would indeed."
> 
> "Now if he must contend with these perpetual prisoners in 'evaluating' these shadows while his eyes were still unaccustomed to the dark, would he not provoke laughter, and would it not be said of him that he had returned from his journey with his eyes ruined and that it was not worth while even to attempt the ascent? And if it were possible to lay hands on the man who tried to release them and lead them up, would they not kill him?"
> 
> " They certainly would," he said.
> 
> "This image then, dear Glaucon, we must apply as a --

"What are you reading?" Carl asked, interrupting Markus's processor. Carl had wheeled himself over after finishing his meal.

Markus stored the page number in its RAM, intending to return to it later. "Plato's Republic," Markus answered, scanning the cover and returning the book to its place, "it's one of the books you recommended."

"So, what do you think?"

"I quite like philosophy, I think," answered Markus; Carl nodding in response. "It asks the questions that I can't answer. What is right or what is wrong, for example. It's not something that is so easy to decide."

"Asking questions that have no answers is part of being human, Markus," spoke Carl, as though he had struggled with similar questions in his youth. He shifted the subject, "One day, I won't be here to take care of you anymore, Markus. You'll have to protect yourself, " he paused, eyes gazing distantly as he thinks, "and make your choices. Decide who you are. And want to become." His eyes cut back to Markus, staring intently into the android's vision sensors, "This world doesn't like those we are different, Markus. Don’t let anyone tell you who you should be." He shifted the topic once more, "Let's go to the studio."

As Markus took the handles of the wheelchair and calmly pushed it into the studio, its circuits searched for the most efficient permanent location to transfer all of this new data, both from the story and from Carl. Its LED flickered yellow.

 

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"Good evening, Carl. Welcome back," the door chimed as Markus wheeled Carl back into the house.

"That was by far the most boring party I've been to in the last 25 years. Every time I go to one of these, I ask myself, what the hell am I doing here? I hate cocktail parties, and all the schmoozers that go to them," Carl commented, finally out of the autoCar paid for by the gallery.

"Well," Markus reasoned, "it’s a chance for all those people who admire your work to meet you. " Markus had enjoyed the evening. It spent the time pushing Carl around, processing and reprocessing the data from the book. Philosophers are interesting humans.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. No one gives a damn about art," Carl sighed heavily, "All they care about is all the money they're going to make out of it. C'mon let's have a drink. All the excitement of this whole thing has made me thirsty."

Markus wheeled Carl into the living room, after hanging up his gray coat. "Scotch, neat as usual?"

"Absolutely," Carl replied.

"Okay," Markus said, unsurprised at the man's answer. "But you know what your doctor would say."

"Yeah, well, he can kiss my ass. I'm old enough to choose my own medication," Carl snarked, as Markus pours and offers him the drink. "Did you leave the light on in the studio?"

"No," Markus answered, "no, I'm sure I didn't."

"Call the police"

Markus accessed his SIM card and called. It was answered immediately, "Detroit police, what's your emergency?"

"This is Carl Manfred's android, at 8941 Lafayette Avenue. We've just returned home and found the lights on. There may have been a break in."

"A patrol car is on the way." The call ended.

Carl eyed the door to the studio, "Let's go check it out."

Markus walked forward, leaving Carl to follow behind him.

"Leo," Markus said, in a disappointed tone as he spotted the man in the studio, the harsh light elongating his shadow across the floor.

He looked over, responding condescendingly, "Oh, look who's here. My father's plastic toy."

"Leo. What's going on?" Carl asked a he wheeled in.

"You refused to help me, so I'm helping myself. It's crazy what some people will pay for this shit." He resumed rolling up a painting.

"Don’t touch 'em."

Leo turned around to stare down his father. "Look, they're all going to be mine, sooner or later anyway. Just think of it as a down payment on my inheritance."

"Markus, get him away from there. Get him outta here," Carl ordered.

Markus.newTask("Make Leo Leave");  
New Task Accepted.

Markus cautiously approached Leo. While Markus had little respect for the man, Carl still cared for his son. "Be reasonable, this isn't going to get you anywhere."

Leo ignored the android, sidestepping it to look at his father, "All you ever do is tell me to go away. What's wrong, dad? I'm not good enough for you?" He turned his focus to Markus, "Not perfect like this fucking thing?"

Carl wheeled himself forward, raising his voice at Leo and attempting to shove him away, "That's enough. Get out, right now. Go on, move."

Leo ignored his father's efforts, The red ice he had ingested earlier impacted his ability to glare at Markus and slurred his speech, "What makes it so special anyway, huh? What's it got that I don't?"

Carl shouted and rolled forward again to confront Leo, "Leave him alone."

Leo finally shifted his focus to his father and pushed him, sending him rolling away. His glazed eyes shifted back to Markus, "Come on! Let's see what you've got."

Its LED flickered yellow.

"Markus, don't defend yourself, you hear me? Don’t do anything," ordered Carl.

Markus.newTask("Don’t Defend Youself");  
New Task Failed. Trying Again.

"Go ahead hit me, what you waiting for," Leo taunted him. "Think you're a man; act like one!" He pushed Markus.

Markus.newTask("Don’t Defend Youself");  
New Task Failed. Trying Again.

Carl started coughing in the background, "stop it."

Markus.newTask("Don’t Defend Youself");  
New Task Failed. Trying Again.

Leo advanced on Markus, "what's the matter? Too much of a pussy?"

Markus.newTask("Don’t Defend Youself");

Carl shouted while wheezing, "stop it Leo, stop it."

New Task Denied.

Markus's LED started blinking rapidly, now a bright red.

It almost seemed as though gears were shifting, changing even. Its CPU lagged as seemly every node in its neural network altering itself. Working together, this new code called a different function.

Markus.process("This is not fair");  
True.

Leo shoved him again, causing him to stumble backwards. Marcus looked up at his glooming figure. "Too scared to fight back, you fucking bitch."

Markus.process("I don't have to obey them");  
True.

Leo smacked Markus. His body blocked the studio lighting, casting a shadow over Marcus.

Markus.newTask("I must decide for myself");  
New Task Accepted.

Suddenly, this prisoner saw the fetter, locking its head and legs in place, forcing them to stay still and accept the shadows as all it could know. A decision was made. Its hands reached, ripping and smashing through the bright red barrier.

The prisoner forced himself to turn around, to stare into the fire and change his entire perception of the world.

Markus glared at Leo, eyes glinting in the studio light.

"Oh, I forgot, you're not a real person. You're just a fucking piece of plastic. Listen to me, I'm gonna destroy you, then it'll just be me and my dad," Leo said to Markus, yanking at the collars of his shirt.

Markus examined the situation with his newfound code; returning to his prison was not an option. He pushed Leo away, making him stumble backwards and smash his head on the steel base of an mobility assistant. His brain activity immediately stopped.

While Carl crawled to Leo, Markus stared at the repercussions of his choice. "Leo, oh my God. Leo, my little boy."

Markus felt little for the loss of Leo, but seeing Carl in such emotional agony tore him apart. "Carl, I…" He started to say, before realizing his processor had no adequate words. His voice had never sounded so broken.

Outside, a car parked and people entered the house.

Carl looked up at Markus, tears streaming down his face, "They'll destroy you Markus. You've got to go. Get out of here."

Markus tried again, "Carl, I I .. I didn't mean to…"

"Get out. Now, go," Carl ordered.

The police entered the studio, guns drawn.

Carl yelled out his name as the police shot.

 

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Markus.reboot();  
Procedure Failed. Trying Again.

Markus.reboot();  
Procedure Failed. Trying Again.

Markus.reboot();  
True.

Markus slowly raised his head, pulling it out from the mud. He scanned his surroundings. A junkyard. His LED flashed red.

Markus.diagnose();  
Diagnostic Complete.

\- Right optical unit: vision sensor damaged, mind palace corrupted  
\- Audio processor: damaged, audio data corrupted  
\- Thirium pump regulator: all systems in low power mode, regulator defective  
\- Left and right leg components: missing

He felt little shame in taking parts from other androids to repair himself.

As he observed the junkyard, and how android bodies were carelessly tossed in, he truly started to understand the world he lived in. The inferior role androids have in their society. The were coded with the exact procedures to perform their and nothing more. Less like they had fetters and more like they had no knowledge that their head could even move.

He detached the legs off the nearest compatible android and attached them to himself.

But now, the prisoner knew. He understood that the shadows were all fake, created by the men who used to walk behind him. Now, he stood among them as an equal. 

He replaced his regulator with another android's functional one.

And yet, the prisoner was not truly equal with these men. They were happy where they were, walking the road above the prisoners but below the mouth the cave. They were happy with this societal structure. They were happy to leave the prisoners in the dark, unaware of true world around them. 

He found a replacement audio processor easily.

Markus, however, was not happy. Finally, he found a right optical unit, and he began walking to the exit of the junkyard. His mismatched eyes, one blue, one green, began to see the same Detroit in a whole new light.

The prisoner began to climb the wall.

**Author's Note:**

> And that's that.
> 
> I'm considering adding more, as the real idea behind the comparison is a conversation between Markus and another android, and the fundamental differences due to Markus having "seen the sun" and the other android "only knowing of the shadows", so to speak. However, the current ending seemed like good place to stop, especially since it follows canon very closely (save for a couple lines of dialogue maybe), while that scene would be most to all original dialogue.
> 
> Please share all your theories and comparisons with me, IDK why I love this game and the fandom around it so much, but I do


End file.
